


just like sunset.

by outerjaw



Series: another life || en pointe. [2]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Drama, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outerjaw/pseuds/outerjaw
Summary: When you sing I faithfully listen,andI will be what you want; a forever type of song.I want to go together with you, sweetheart.I want to see you there.
Relationships: Lucifer & Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), Lucifer/Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy)
Series: another life || en pointe. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577041
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	just like sunset.

They’ve been sat in front of the mirror at the foot of this bed for what feels like hours, days, weeks. Sandalphon, in the open space of Lucifer’s parted legs, is so pink in the face that it rivals the skies as the sun sets outside of their covered window. The room itself is not so dark that the small detail on Sandalphon’s skin is lost, but the dimness of the only lamp in Lucifer’s bedroom cascades shadows across the ridges of bone— lines which Lucifer traces with the whisper of his finger, or his tongue.

The slip of a thin shirt off of his shoulder has been the subject of such attentive doting that he can’t even bear to _look_ at the reflection. But Lucifer continues on without hesitation or apology, sliding the fabric away inch by careful inch. His lips, soft and warm, cherish the skin beneath them.

Sandalphon has never felt such adoration in all of his life.

“Luci—” the rest of the name whispered from the back of his throat is replaced with a long, breathy **_ah_ ** , as the man sitting behind him honed into a particularly sensitive spot on his neck: the thin stretch of skin just under his ear, to the back of his jaw. Unintentionally, his eyes flutter closed, the world falling away except for the light _suck_ , and then the chill of a breath on the wetness as Lucifer pulled just enough away to speak.

“Look at how graceful you are,” his blue eyes glance up and meet Sandalphon’s in the mirror.

His back is fully flushed with Lucifer’s chest; the bottom hem of his shirt has risen up and now reveals the slim, toned muscle of his abdomen. It is an open expanse that Lucifer teases at, all hands and fingers over the edges. His knees are bent and his legs are parted, as if he is on display for an audience.

And he is, of course: an audience of one, who attentively watches the shiver in response to his fondness. A whisper of a contented sigh brushes _that part_ of his neck once again, and Sandalphon trembles beneath it, chills raising the hairs on his arm.

When Lucifer’s fingers dance across the fabric of his pants, Sandalphon thinks he might go dizzy from the rush of blood moving south, pushing against his zipper and stretching it taught. The bulge catches the attention of his lover immediately; from the button of his pants, fingers trail down delicately to begin with— just a ghost of a touch to tease out the sweet reactions Lucifer wants to _savor_ , wants to capture in his mind to repeat for himself. Unintentionally, Sandalphon juts his hips upwards just enough to seek out the sweetness of friction he longs for.

“Lovely,” Lucifer coos, “you’re so lovely,” and to bring it out once more he drags the base of his palm down Sandalphon’s length, more deliberate in his desire to _witness him_ in a lustful daze.

Sandalphon’s head rests back on Lucifer’s shoulder while he can feel the top button come undone, and then the zipper meticulously trace over where he throbs underneath the restriction— before it opens and he is partially free. Beads of precome had soaked through his briefs; Lucifer rubs over it like an open target with his thumb, back and forth before the motions become tight circles on the tip. 

He melts under the touch completely, softly moaning and _wanting_ . His hand goes over Lucifer’s with a gentle quiver— not to push away, but to _guide_ ; his lover gives him the relief without protesting, palming his hardened cock at the pace of a _burning crawl_ , yet with all the purposeful effort to draw out this erotic side of Sandalphon that few people had ever truly seen before. It feels like something precious, something _secret_ , something once given never forgotten.

Lucifer, beside himself with adoration, gives his own soft moans along to the melody of Sandalphon’s. He’s hard against Sandalphon’s back, and he’s _more than_ fine with staying a spectator for the beginning of this little ritual, this veneration of the subtle movements in his lover’s body. 

Under the waistband of his own briefs, Sandalphon shifts to remove them, but Lucifer stops him before he can, with a simple, “Allow me.”

They shift away from the mirror, Lucifer’s toned strength enough to move Sandalphon so he lays on his back against the bedsheets. Guiding his hips up and taking hold of the clothing in his way, he shifts it down— over his thighs, down his shins and cast away to the floor beneath them. When Sandalphon’s length meets the air, Lucifer’s eyes are hungry and admiring.

His hands trace over thighs that practically _fall_ open at his touch and he shifts down, leans _in_ — at first it’s only the tip that he tongues, lapping up the precome that freely drips out at the sensation so warm and wet. Breaths give way to whimpers when Lucifer’s lips brush over the redness of the _throbbing_ cock begging entrance to his mouth, and he can feel a hand in his hair that begs him to keep going.

Those blue eyes are captivated by the furious blush that stains Sandalphon’s cheeks. He wants to commit it to his memories— the way Sandalphon’s chest heaves upward and his _whole body_ seems to come alive from the sensation. And maybe he can maximize this moment, this view, he thinks. So without moving his gaze, he licks his lips before circling around the hardened length beneath him, sliding down to the base in a single drawn-out motion.

The groan he receives in response is low, and it’s so heavy with desire, he can’t help but hum with the satisfaction of pleasing Sandalphon, whose hips further tremble and rock into Lucifer’s mouth. He doesn’t stop the motion, either, moving along with it to give Sandalphon exactly what he wants. The gentle suck makes its way up to his head, nearly threatens to abandon it, before he takes Sandalphon’s full length again with a confident dip; across his tongue, he can _taste_ how the craving culminates. 

Lucifer begins a steady rhythm, sighing and humming around Sandalphon’s cock, his own trapped hardness aching to be freed in the act. Instead, he raises his hand up his lover’s body— over his stomach and pushing up the shirt that hasn’t been removed, doting and flicking over a pert nipple _(further enjoying how Sandalphon has always been so sensitive and receptive to those fleeting touches)_ before his finger is soon caressing Sandalphon’s tongue.

He imagines the sight of that mouth on him, too, and files away the fantasy for another time.

When he removes his wet finger with an audible _pop_ from Sandalphon’s lips, he teases over the entrance just beneath his length. It won’t be enough for the rest of their night, but he can’t bring himself to stop _tasting_ and _moving_ around the pulsing length within his mouth to grasp for the bottle at their bedside. Lucifer instead settles for simply massaging his hole in circles, teasing his way inside only to the first bend in his knuckle, always enjoying the fervent buck of his hips that he _knows_ yearns for him and him alone.

“Just— _like that_ ,” he hears gasped out like a man on the edge; Lucifer never minds when Sandalphon wants an early release, considering they had the rest of this very _long_ night to build back up to everything else. And in moments like these, when Sandalphon is _so close_ to his release, Lucifer allows him to set the pace, to thrust into his mouth freely, to grasp at those strands of silver hair and hold Lucifer’s mouth in place until the final wave of pleasure peaks and spills away. 

Quickly now, Sandalphon grinds against the hot muscle of Lucifer’s tongue with such liveliness, such _desperate_ need to come that when he does it’s with _every inch_ of him. His back arches, his head throws back, an extended moan gifts itself to the ceiling, and he rides the wave of release where his lover is aching to receive it.

Lucifer continues his thorough suck as the waves of Sandalphon’s orgasm quells, until he’s jerking from slight overstimulation.

After a final run of his lips over the spent length and a shudder that makes its way through Sandalphon’s spine, Lucifer hovers above him and admires the sight he’s been given: his lover catching his breath with lidded eyes, the hand in his hair dropping to stroke Lucifer’s cheek, and the other wrapped up in the sheets he had been gripping with white knuckles.

“There couldn’t possibly be a more lovely creature than you,” Lucifer says with awe, catching his own breath from the calming intensity.

He sweeps the hair from Sandalphon’s forehead, slick with sweat, thinking in the low lamplight that he could stare at the scene forever.

* * *

The café is in a bustle, considering how late the hour is. Whether it is filled with businessmen on their way home from work, or school teachers just let out of the classroom, the important detail is that the two men who sit at the corner table can’t be identified in this place, two towns over from their home dance studio. 

They have been talking politely over cups of coffee like coworkers, or perhaps a bit like cordial college students. There is no hint as to their true relationship with each other, except perhaps the subtle touching of their knees under the table— where no one else is able to see. Lucifer knows that things are easier this way, both for him and for Sandalphon, considering their rather unforgiving career. The judgement of the public is a bastardly presence, always seeking the slightest imperfection or fault to pick at.

Nevertheless, they are here, and they have been enjoying each other’s presence for quite some time.

“So, what do you think?” Sandalphon asks after a long moment of quiet. The polite conversation had faded off some time ago, and they had defaulted to simply watching the movement of the public around them, waiting for an opening to talk about what has been on Sandalphon’s mind so viciously that he can’t possibly wait for them to retreat to the safe, quiet walls of either of their apartments.

“I think of a lot of things,” Lucifer responds, offering a small smile. It’s like a secret language, the way his voice lilts only for Sandalphon.

“I mean…” Sandalphon fumbles for only a stray second. “About this arrangement. It’s a bit difficult to work out the loopholes, don’t you think?”

“Hm. Difficult, maybe, but not impossible.”

A smirk crosses Sandalphon’s lips. “It’s not like we can hire a lawyer.”

To that statement, Lucifer lightly laughs. “Well, I suppose we can, if you want to.”

In secret intimacy like this, Sandalphon wants nothing more than to reach out and hold the open, relaxed hand that rests atop the table, but not even the ever-moving crowd can hide that much away from the world, so he settles for resting his chin in his own palm. Still, he can at least _look_ at Lucifer as fondly and openly as he wishes.

Behind him, the sky turns orange and red, beams of the sunset cascading shadows around the form of his body, his face— like the lamplight of Lucifer’s bedroom.

“If you’d like my input...” Lucifer offers as he leans into the conversation. His voice drops to where Sandalphon can barely hear him, but it’s the best bet at privacy that they can promise each other, so Sandalphon listens with his full attention. “I think the sunset looks lovely.”

In spite of himself, a light blush raises to Sandalphon’s face and he averts his eyes for only a moment. It is not long before he looks back, because,

“I’d like to see it with you, Sandalphon.”

Before he realizes what comes next, Lucifer’s thumb traces over the skin of Sandalphon’s resting elbow. Small, subtle, yet just as bright and warm as the light that streams across them both. 

And in the end, the genuine smile that reaches Sandalphon’s dark eyes truly does feel like a sun in the cavity of Lucifer’s chest.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece, just like the last, was written for [BisKitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BisKitty) here on AO3! Thank you as always for supporting my writing.
> 
> If you'd like to make a fic request, I have a special note for you up on my twitter [right here](https://twitter.com/outerjaw/status/1208521831793037313)!  
> Feel free to follow me or shoot me a DM anytime.


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